


you can leave your hat on

by endingthemes



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Awkwardness, Charles Is a Big Dorkface, M/M, Romance, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:48:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endingthemes/pseuds/endingthemes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt: "Erik is the stripper Charles hires for Raven's bachelorette party."</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can leave your hat on

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dedkake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedkake/gifts).



> I saw the prompt, and I couldn't resist. I hope you don't mind that I deviated a bit!

“Moira, do you think I’m boring and uptight?” Charles asked, swirling the wine in his glass.

She glanced over at him, taking a slow slip of her own wine before answering. “Uh, no. I think you’re, you know, you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re...very cerebral,” she stated diplomatically.

“I’m boring,” Charles said, despair creeping into his voice. “Everyone thinks I’m an old uptight boring waste of space!”

Moira, who was used to these sorts of rants from tipsy Charles, let it slide. “You just think too much, Charles. It’s not boring. It’s just you.”

Charles turned a pleading look on her. “But he said I was too uptight.”

“Yes, and when people break up with you, it’s usually best not to listen too closely to what they're saying because it often comes from an unfair place of anger with an intention to hurt.”

“Still not over Sean, I see.”

“Fuck off, Charles.”

“Just you and me, Moira, against the world.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled the wine glass from his hand. “We are supposed to be having fun right now, not musing over exes. Fuck exes. I mean, we did fuck them, but now I mean fuck them in a much worse sense of the word.”

“Yes, good,” Charles agreed, pulling the laptop back into his lap. “This is fun. Look at all these hot guys. It’s like a man buffet and I can just click and order.”

Moira scooted until they were huddled together on the couch looking down at the laptop screen together. “Oh, I like that one.” She motioned toward the current hunk with her wine glass.

“No,” Charles said. “Not everyone has a ginger fetish like you.”

Moira huffed, and they kept scrolling. “Oh! What about this one? ‘Havok.’ That’s a sexy name.”

“Too twinkie,” Charles said dismissively.

Moira sighed. “You’re picky.”

“This isn’t for me. This is for Raven.” He stopped and turned slightly wild eyes on Moira. “Am I really doing this?”

“Of course you are,” Moira said, bumping him with her shoulder. “Every bachelorette party needs a stripper. It’s tradition.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not tradition.”

“It’s funny as hell?”

“Fair enough.” He continued scrolling through the man menu but came to a sudden stop. “This one.”

Moira furrowed her brow. “Wolverine? He’s built like a semi and hairy as hell. What the fuck, Charles? That’s not Raven’s type at all.”

“Exactly! You think Hank would let me live if I actually got her a stripper she would be remotely attracted to?”

Moira nodded slowly. “You’re right. Sometimes I forget how smart you are.”

“Wench.”

“Prude.”

They dissolved into laughter. And damn, it felt good to laugh. Getting dumped two weeks before his little sister’s wedding had really put a damper on things.

“Wolverine then,” Charles said. “I’ll make the reservation.” He clicked through a few pages of sign up, dates, times, and “special requests.” Moira wanted to select the “sexy cop” option, but Charles selected “no roleplay” because frankly, he was freaked out enough with the idea of a stripper, much less one with a nightstick. They both agreed on the “no full nudity” option, and with a few more clicks, he’d secured Wolverine for Raven’s party.

“Can’t wait to see her face,” Moira said with a wicked smile.

Charles picked up his wine glass and clinked it against her’s. “To embarrassing the hell out of Raven.”

***

Routine. Charles liked routine. He wasn’t uptight (no matter what Scott said) he’d just had an unsteady childhood and he liked things to stay in their proper place and order.

Scott had often dropped by during his Monday morning break, and they’d sat together in Charles’ messy office, knocking over books with their elbows as they drank bad coffee and complained about students. His absence made Charles’ office feel strangely empty and quiet.

He thought about taking a walk around campus, but he had nowhere to go. Ororo and Moira were in class, and he sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere near the engineering building. Not that he’d gone there often before, he realized with an internal wince, always expecting Scott to come to him instead.

Sure, Scott had maybe put in a bit more effort than Charles, but Charles was a different kind of person. He’d been trying in his own way. He wasn’t all open smiles and friendliness like Scott. People flocked to Scott, babies liked Scott, old ladies called Scott “a sweet dear” and Charles at one point suspected that if Scott went into the forest, woodland creatures would come out and sing with him. But where did Scott get off on calling Charles boring? Scott spent 60% of his time talking about engineering, 20% of his time working out, 15% of his time whitening his teeth, and 5% of his time having vanilla sex with Charles.

Scott had broken up with him, after six months of dating, and he’d said, “Sorry, Charles. I can’t do this. It’s just you in your head, and there’s no room for me.”

Though it sounded weird, Charles knew what Scott meant. He did spend most of his time in his head, but he liked it there. Thinking about things was entertaining. He once spent a whole day thinking about whether or not he and Scott should go on a date to an amusement park, and he'd had a great deal of fun pondering it. So much fun, in fact, that when Scott, who had seen his Google images searches of ferris wheels and roller coasters, asked if he’d actually wanted to go, he’d said no.

In retrospect, perhaps that had been the problem?

He looked around his office -- books everywhere, an old dirty lab coat, three pairs of glasses (he constantly lost them and bought new pairs only for the old ones to miraculously reappear) -- and the only word that came to his mind was “shabby.”

He was a young, hot professor with his whole life ahead of him. He wasn’t boring or uptight or even shabby. He was a catch. He was going to go out there and show the world what he could do. He was brave, and he could be brash and impulsive if he wanted to.

He’d do all that, he decided firmly. Tomorrow, maybe. Well, he should really put a bit more thought into these brash and impulsive plans, so maybe next week instead.

***

Charles had already arrived at Beans and ordered his skim milk latte before he realized that this was another routine that would not be happening. He began to walk toward the table he and Scott always sat at before a streak of rebellion ran through him, and he sat at the table next to his regular one instead, feeling smugly satisfied. See? He could be spontaneous.

When Scott walked in, Charles was surprised, but played it cool. Scott immediately spotted him, and Charles wondered if this was going to be that weird “now that we’ve broken up, pretend you don’t exist” thing, but Scott ordered and made his way straight to Charles, eyebrows raised above his ubiquitous red sunglasses as he looked at their regular table.

“Changing things up, I see. Mind if I…?”

“Please sit,” Charles said, so Scott did.

Charles searched for something to say but really they’d only broken up a few days ago, so “you look good” seemed weird. He could ask how Scott was doing, but that would be like he was expecting Scott to be sad, right? Or digging for information about Scott’s mental state in general. Perhaps it would even sound like he wanted Scott to take him back.

Scott sighed. “You’re doing it again.”

Charles blinked out of his thoughts. “I’m doing what?”

“The staring at me weirdly while your brain runs a hundred miles an hour thinking about nothing.”

“I’m thinking about something,” Charles objected.

Scott just smiled. “How are you doing, Charles?”

Was Scott the one digging for information now? Should Charles act heartbroken? Was he heartbroken? He was a little upset about the fact that he’d have to attend Raven’s wedding alone, but he’d kind of known this thing between them would never last, and honestly, they hadn’t had sex in over a month and that was definitely strange for two young, attractive gay men, right?

“I’m good,” Charles said.

Scott looked exasperated. He used to look fondly exasperated, but the softness was gone now. “That’s good. I’m fine too. Everything’s fine, yeah? We can still be friends.”

“Of course,” Charles said.

“Great.” Scott stood up, taking his coffee with him. “See you around then.”

“Sure,” Charles said, waiting for some sort of heartache or pain to come, but nothing did. This breaking up stuff wasn’t so bad. Why did people get so upset over this? They wrote songs about this, right? Charles had had worse heartburn.

A tapping on the glass startled Charles’ triumphant moment, and he turned to find to find Scott’s TA standing outside, looking questioningly at the empty space across from Charles. Charles motioned for Erik to come inside.

Erik looked the same as always in a beat-up pair of jeans and an engineering school t-shirt, his stern face softened by his striking green eyes. Erik eyed Charles’ usual table before turning to the new one Charles had chosen to occupy and smiling for no damn reason.

“Can I help you, Erik?” Charles asked.

“I came to find Scott,” he said. “He dumped a bunch of stuff on me for tomorrow, but I’m not sure what he wants me to do with it.”

“You just missed him.”

Erik raised an eyebrow. “But this is your Monday evening coffee hour. He’s always here.”

“Yes, well, things change.”

Erik’s other eyebrow raised, and for some unfathomable reason, he sat down across from Charles. “So how’s it going, Professor Xavier?”

“Good, good. Hank and I are really making some good progress with allele-specific expressions and their regulatory mechanisms.” Charles stopped. “You don’t care about this. This is boring.”

“Sure, a little,” Erik said, “but if you pay for my coffee, I’ll sit and let you talk.”

“The poor starving grad student,” Charles said, handing over his card to Erik. “Doesn’t Scott take better care of you?”

“Works me to the bone,” Erik said and headed to get his coffee.

Erik stayed for the entire hour Charles normally would have spent with Scott. Sure, Charles had talked to Erik a few times over the last few months, but he’d never spent this much time with him. Erik listened with eyes half-glazed as Charles talked more about alleles, but the edge of his mouth was curled up the whole time. Charles didn’t know how it happened, but by the end they were arguing over whether tarragon was tasty or not. Charles lost himself to his mind for a moment then, trying to figure out just why the thought of tarragon made his skin crawl, and he finally dug out the memory of his drunken mother pushing the cook out of the way and declaring that the stuffing for the turkey needed more tarragon before dumping in the entire bottle.

He blinked out of his thoughts to find Erik smiling at him like he knew something Charles didn’t which pissed Charles off because Charles was a genius and knew everything.

“You’re pretty funny, you know,” Erik said.

Charles didn’t know why he suddenly felt so bitter. “No, according to everyone I know, I am a boring head case.” And then he wanted to groan, because really? He was unloading his problems on his ex’s TA? This must be the low point all those books and movies talked about. All uphill from here.

“No,” Erik said slowly, like he was addressing a child, which only made Charles bristle further. “I meant you were funny, just like I said. What you need, Professor, is to live a little.”

“I am living.”

Erik just laughed.

Charles didn’t appreciate that. “My Monday coffee hour is up.” Charles stood up, pushing in his chair. Erik popped up as well, looking like he had something to say, but Charles just brushed past him.

“See you, Professor Xavier,” Erik called after him.

“Goodbye, Erik.” Charles answered without looking back, and then he was out into the evening air, cool and soothing as he took a deep breath before turning to head home.

***

A week before the wedding, and it was finally time for the bachelorette party. Everyone had gathered at Charles’ house right off campus, and drinks were flowing freely. Angel was happily playing a game of pin the dong on the dude as Moira and Emma watched laughing when the dong ended up in the dude’s eye.

Raven, sporting a gaudy plastic tiara sparkly enough to blind, was chatting happily with Jean, and Kitty was adding more vodka to the punch. It was a lot of estrogen, but Charles was enjoying himself anyway, and was actually kind of hoping he’d be the next to play pin the dong on the dude when Moira made her way over to him, her steps only slightly unsteady.

“Almost time?” Moira slid a pair of party “funglasses” onto Charles’ face that were large and pink and covered in rhinestones, and proclaimed in giant plastic letters across his forehead that he was the bride-to-be.

Charles looked down at his watch, vision now tinted pink. “Fifteen more minutes,” he said, and Moira nodded, obviously excited, shifting from foot to foot.

Charles let his mind take over for just a moment, wondering if indeed ordering a stripper without telling his sister had been bad form. But Raven lived to embarrass Charles, and he was still nursing the mental scars from his 28th birthday party when they’d dragged him to a gay club and Raven had thrown him up on stage, declaring it was his birthday. He’d been serenaded by a drag queen while five go-go boys grinded their various oiled parts all over him, and he’d nearly died from mortification while Raven had watched with glee. He shuddered at the memory. A stripper was the least she deserved.

The doorbell rang, and the room seemed to suddenly quiet, expectation settling over everyone though this should have been a surprise. “I’ll get it,” he said, and made his way to the front door, leaving the din of the living room behind.

He opened the door, his palms a bit sweaty, and expected to see a mammoth on the other side. His eyes began on the man’s brown boots, trailed up his legs clad in tight jeans, to his small waist accentuated by the cut of his button-up shirt, pulled tight across his chest as he leaned against the door frame. Finally Charles’ eyes landed on his face, and his heart stopped.

“I’m here for the bachelorette party. I was sent by Rent-A-Hunk,” said a very familiar voice.

“Dear god,” Charles said, blinking through his giant pink sunglasses because his eyes weren’t deceiving him, and that was definitely Scott’s TA shooting him a sultry smile.

“Where’s Wolverine?” Charles asked weakly, pulling the party glasses from his face. “I’m pretty sure I ordered a lumberjack.”

Erik looked mostly unperturbed, which was bizarre, but he did drop his arm from where it was leaning on the door frame. “Professor Xavier?”

“Erik,” he greeted.

“What are you doing here?”

Charles looked everywhere but at Erik. “Um, it’s my sister’s bachelorette party, and I ordered a stripper. What are you doing here?”

“I’m a stripper,” Erik said. Charles still didn't look at him, so he went on. “Logan, uh, Wolverine got sick, so he called me and asked if I’d be willing to step in. He said he’d already squared it with you, but if you want me to go…”

Charles hadn’t checked his email all day.

“Where’s the stripper?” came a call from the living room. “You better have gotten me a stripper!”

Charles sighed. Why had he thought she’d be remotely embarrassed?

“Could they send anyone else?” Charles asked.

“On notice this short? Sorry, but no.” Erik looked slightly wary. “Should I go?”

Charles took a deep breath. “No, no, it’s my mistake for not checking. Please come in and make yourself at home and, uh, take your clothes off.” Charles shook his head. “I mean… uh, what do I mean?”

Erik smiled. He had a lot of teeth, but it was still an attractive smile. “Okay.”

He grabbed the small duffle he’d brought with him and followed Charles into the living room, and cheers went up.

“Hello, Mr. Stripper!” chirped Angel.

“Hello,” replied Scott’s TA, Erik, the stripper. Life was weird.

“Charles, you actually got me a stripper?” Raven jumped from the couch and launched herself at him, swinging him in a hug. “I’ve always wanted a stripper!”

“Dream do come true,” he said weakly. “Ladies, this is, uh…” Charles was pretty sure Erik didn’t use his real name.

“Magneto,” Erik said. Eyebrows shot up.

“That’s not a very sexy stripper name,” Moira said with obvious disapproval.

“I’m magnetic,” Erik replied with a wink.

“He’s hot, I don’t care what his name is,” Angel said. The rest of the girls were in agreement. Erik pulled an iPod and speakers from his bag, setting up as Charles and Moira arranged chairs and couches in a good formation for watching the show.

“That’s the wrong stripper,” Moira said quietly to him as they shifted an arm chair.

“I know,” Charles whispered back. “But he’ll do, right?”

Moira eyed Erik appreciatively. “He’ll definitely do.”

Finally, with everyone set-up and Raven in the middle in a huge arm chair, Charles attempted to casually flee the room.

“Where are you going?” Raven asked, adjusting her tiara.

“To wait in the kitchen while you enjoy the entertainment.” He hated that it sounded like a question more than a statement.

“I think not,” Raven declared, jumping up and going to grab another chair from the kitchen, setting it down on the far side and motioning for Charles to sit. Charles hesitated, looking to Erik whose face was unreadable.

“I don’t want to make him uncomfortable,” Charles said.

“It’s fine,” Erik said, and Charles shot him a narrow-eyed look.

“See? Sit down.” Raven pushed him into the chair and then went back to her center position, sitting like a queen at court.

Charles sighed and settled down, telling himself he wouldn’t look.

Erik smiled that weird seductive smile with too many teeth, and Raven looked downright thrilled when he pressed play and club music with strong bass filled in the air. Charles was expecting something cheesy and pornographic, but it was just one of those normal dance songs he’d heard whenever Raven had dragged him out. He was trying to recall the song’s artist when Erik started moving, and his mind went quiet.

It wasn’t an outright dance, but all of Erik was in motion, a subtle slide of his feet, a sway in his hips, a roll in his shoulders, and a glint in his eyes. Cheers went up as he moved to the first button on his shirt and undid it with graceful ease, slowly but not lingering as he continued with the music. When the next button exposed more cloth instead of skin, Raven, obviously deeply offended, cried, “He’s wearing a tank top!”

Erik smirked and finally threw his shirt to the floor. His arms were nicely muscled, the lines of them sleek and shaped. Charles assumed by this point everyone in the room would be tittering with embarrassment, but Erik looked so smooth and easy as he moved, no one seemed to feel uncomfortable.

Except for Charles of course. Who was watching his ex-boyfriend’s teaching assistant strip in his living room. He started to look away, face heating.

But then Erik began to play with the hem of the tank top, teasing it up enough to reveal a tight, flat stomach, and as more and more torso was revealed, a few whistles went up around the room. Charles thought about tracing each line of Erik’s abs with his tongue, wondering what the skin would taste like, and _what the hell?_

In one smooth motion, Erik reached back over his own shoulder with one hand, grabbed the neck of the tank top, and pulled it off over his head, swinging it around before throwing it to the floor.

“Yes!” someone exclaimed. Charles had no idea who because Erik was now shirtless and his proportions were too outrageous to be real. His unbelievably tiny waist seemed impossible when compared to the width of his shoulders and Charles wondered what that ratio would be, and he almost began calculations in his head before Erik turned around and began swaying his hips to the music again, his back muscles flexing and his ass looking pert and perfect in those jeans. Suddenly Charles hated jeans with a vengeance. Who invented jeans? Fuck them.

Erik slinked his way over to Raven, a smirk on his face, and she looked like Christmas had arrived early as he motioned to the button on his jeans. She reached out and undid it and Emma “Ice Queen” Frost actually let out a “woop!”

“The zipper!” Angel squealed.

Raven pulled that down too, and Erik gave her a low “thank you” that sent all the girls sighing. Charles would have chuckled if he wasn’t sighing along with them. Erik moved away from Raven again back to the center, and bent down to untie his boots, his ass on display the entire time he did it, swaying with the music. Charles thought he might never be able to tie his shoes without getting a hard-on again.

Then the shoes were gone, and Erik’s jeans were open, and everyone in the room was giggling and squealing because this was it. The song was a different one, something slower, but Charles wasn’t sure when it had changed or even how many songs had come and gone. In a move that would have sent Charles tumbling onto his face, Erik slowly peeled the jeans off of his toned legs, revealing a bright purple g-string. Charles’ jaw dropped.

“Oh my god! It’s a monster!” Charles wondered for a second if those words had escaped his own mouth, but no, that had been Kitty who was beet red but beaming.

Erik stood before them, gloriously (almost) naked, and there wasn’t a hair on his body, not even anything poking out from the insanely tiny underwear. The little purple g-string didn’t really offer any modesty -- hell, Charles could tell the man was circumcised -- and it looked ready to burst with the sheer size of his package.

Erik approached Raven again and began a dance right in front of her, his ass moving tantalizingly close her face, and she lit up with delight. Charles’ eyes widened as Erik gracefully climbed so that his legs were spread wide on the arms of the chair and his hands were balanced on the back on either side of Raven’s head. He began to gyrate right there in her face, and the room filled with more squeals of “oh my god!”

“You can touch,” Erik told Raven with one eyebrow cocked.

She just grinned and said, “I’m getting married in a week, so I definitely can’t.”

“I’ll touch!” Angel exclaimed.

“Hey!” Raven shot back, obviously unperturbed by the giant spandex-covered cock in her face. “This is my stripper.”

Erik slid off of the arm chair and turned around, giving Raven a downright dirty lap dance and she looked extremely pleased the whole time, but kept her hands carefully to her sides. “Damn, he’s good.”

The other girls chorused in agreement, and Erik began to make his way around the room, getting down and dirty with Angel who shamelessly grabbed at his ass and thighs, before moving on to each girl, going all out with the enthusiastic participants and easing off those who looked embarrassed.

Last, he approached Emma, who had claimed one end of the couch, and she said, “Bring it on, baby.” More cheers erupted from the ladies, and using his mysterious graceful stripper skills, Erik managed to balance himself over her, his knees on the back of the couch and his hands on the cushion on either side of her legs as he slowly moved his massive purple package near her face. “Heaven on earth,” she declared, and the whole room dissolved into fits of giggles once again.

Erik slid back down to his feet, sweaty from the exertion but smiling wildly, obviously on an adrenaline high. It made him even more gorgeous, and it wasn’t just his hot body and smooth moves. There was something dancing in his eyes, proof that he was having a genuinely good time, and that made this all fun and easy and not cheesy and cheap as Charles had feared.

He was suddenly strangely comforted that Scott’s TA was such a fantastic stripper.

“Well,” Charles said, “thank you very much, Mr. Magneto.”

“What?” Raven squawked. “Oh, no, no, no. It’s your turn!”

“I’m pretty sure dancing for men isn’t in his contract,” Charles said, aiming for a casual shrug, but his shoulders went way too high.

“Did you see him move?” Angel said. “No straight man moves like that!”

“Charles, come on!” Raven whined. “You’re ruining the fun. Let the hot guy rub his junk on you!”

“I hate you all,” Charles said.

But soon a chant of “Charles!” “Charles!” was going around the room, and Erik turned his intense green eyes on Charles and approached slowly. Charles felt like prey about to be devoured by an extremely attractive predator, and his thoughts were racing, telling him the myriad of things that were completely insane about this situation, but then Erik’s ass was in his lap, making rhythmic circles over Charles’ thighs and brushing his quickly stiffening cock which had stayed mostly quiet while he was watching Erik dance on the girls.

In one smooth motion, Erik turned, straddling his lap and bringing them face to face as he put his hands on Charles’ shoulders and began undulating his hips, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen rippling as he rubbed up and down Charles’ lap expertly. Charles’ cock was suddenly so hard he thought it might bust through the zipper of his slacks and demand attention.

God, Erik was even more attractive up close -- all long, lean muscles, exactly the way Charles liked it. The light sheen of sweat lent a glow to his skin, and he smelled amazing, like some mountain spring body wash that mixed so well with his natural scent that Charles wanted to bury his face in the crook of Erik’s neck and just breathe. His hands were somehow on Erik’s hips, holding on tightly as Erik’s movements suddenly slowed, until he was just sitting in Charles’ lap, a comfortable, warm, mostly naked weight. Charles glanced down to see that the outrageous g-string was straining now, barely containing Erik’s erection. Charles wasn’t a size queen (okay, maybe slightly only a little bit a size queen) but his breath caught in his throat.

He tried to open his mouth to say something, but Erik’s green eyes were staring directly into his, and there was nothing playful about it. Charles forgot how to speak.

It was only then that he realized the room had gone eerily quiet and even the music had stopped.

“Holy shit!” Angel exclaimed into the stillness. “That was hot!”

Erik climbed off of Charles’ lap with a bit of difficulty, the first even remotely clumsy thing he’d done all night. Applause went up around the room along with some hoots, and Erik bowed low with a smirk back on his face.

“I’m glad you ladies enjoyed.”

“What do you usually do when you finish?” Raven asked like she wasn’t talking to a mostly naked man with a gigantic erection.

“Ah, depends on the client,” Erik answered, equally as unfazed. “Some ask me to stay and just hang around and chat until my official booking time is up, others ask me to go immediately.”

Raven shot the most unsubtle look that had ever been shot at anyone Charles’ way. “How about you stay a bit? You can put your clothes back on if you want, of course.”

Charles wanted to object, but all of his blood had gone south and his brain seemed to be malfunctioning, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to object to Erik staying or to Erik putting his clothes back on.

“Sure,” Erik said, and he pulled on his jeans and tank top.

And that’s how a stripper sat down and joined Raven’s bachelorette party.

The girls peppered him with questions, and Erik answered gamely. He was 24. No, stripping was his part-time job, he was actually a student. Yes, he had fun, but he would be quitting soon to concentrate fully on finishing his masters in electrical engineering.

Everyone shot looks Charles’ way, and he wanted to groan.

“Charles’ ex-boyfriend is an engineering professor. Maybe you’ve met him?” Raven asked.

“Ex-boyfriend?” Erik asked, turning to look at Charles who schooled his features as carefully as he could.

“Yeah, that asshole broke up with him,” Moira said, taking another huge gulp of punch that was mostly just vodka by this point. “He didn’t get Charles.”

“It’s fine,” Angel added, “Charles can find someone better.”

“Yeah,” Raven agreed, her cheeks flushed with alcohol. “Charles needs someone who understands his head.” She motioned clumsily to her temple. “His head stuff. You know.”

Moira giggled. “That made no sense. His thinking problems?”

“Could you stop?” Charles interrupted. “You’re making it sound like I have a mental illness or something.”

“Yeah, well Scott’s loss,” Raven said. “Where does he get off on calling you boring? We’ve been telling you this for months, but he’s the most fucking boring thing on the planet, Charles. I bet he only has sex in the missionary position.”

“How did you know?” Charles asked.

“Oh my god, seriously?” She looked momentarily horrified before cracking up again, and all the girls joined in, falling onto each other for support.

When the laughter finally stopped, Raven simply declared, “Fuck Scott!”

“Cheers to that!” Moira said, and they all clinked glasses and cans and cups, and Erik turned a sly smile on Charles. It was embarrassing, but also exhilarating, this shared secret that they knew each other. It felt like electricity passing between them, making the hairs on the back of Charles’ neck stand up and his pulse pound.

“Charles is good looking, right?” Angel said loudly motioning towards him with her glass.

“You’re hot,” Moira chirped.

“Sexy!” Raven added.

“You’re my sister,” Charles said, disgusted.

“Come on, Erik. What do you think?”

Erik’s crooked smile might have made Charles’ knees weak but luckily, he was sitting. “Yeah, of course he’s hot.”

“Yes! See!” Angel exclaimed, motioning toward Erik with her glass so enthusiastically that the vodka punch flew through the air and landed down the front of Erik’s tank top and in his lap.

Everyone went very still for a moment in the way of drunk people who have messed up but are too drunk to feel properly bad about it.

“Oh shit,” Angel finally said, “I’m so sorry! Should I lick it up?”

Raven began cackling, and Charles felt way too sober for all of this. Erik was sitting with a slight grimace on his face, but he didn’t look angry, just like he was uncomfortable that punch was trickling into his g-string.

“Come with me to the bathroom,” Charles said, standing up. “I’ll get you some towels.”

“Hooking up in the bathroom!” Raven called as they walked down the hall. “Get it, Charles!”

Charles blushed and ducked his head, but Erik followed silently, grabbing his duffel bag on the way. The guest bathroom was occupied, so Charles took Erik upstairs to the one attached to his bedroom.

It wasn’t until he’d entered the room and switched on his bedside lamp that he realized he was alone with a man who had basically stroked him to full hardness less than twenty minutes ago with a lap dance.

“Uh, the bathroom’s in there.” Charles motioned to it jerkily. “There are clean towels in the cabinet under the sink.”

“Thanks,” Erik said, and Charles watched him walk into the bathroom and pull the door shut. The sound of the sink running followed immediately, filling Charles’ mind with more images of naked Erik but now also dripping wet.

He stood with his eyes locked on the bathroom door enjoying that mental montage for a few beats before he tore his gaze away.

Scott’s TA was a stripper. His brain was still having issues processing that. Scott’s TA was also extremely attractive, and why had Charles never noticed that before? He’d seen Erik countless times, but it had never occurred to Charles that Erik was a sexual being. Was that just the way of TAs or was Charles blind? Perhaps his friends had a point when they said he spent too much time in his head if he’d somehow overlooked someone who looked like _that_.

It was almost funny, funny enough that Charles started to chuckle a bit nervously to himself. Wouldn’t that be a great conversation to have next time he saw Scott?

“Hey, how’s it going? I’m good. Oh and yeah, your TA Erik? He’s got the body of a greek god and a giant cock. I know because he stripped and rubbed it all over me. I sported a stiffy for him all night.”

Charles was starting to really enjoy the absurdity when the bathroom door opened again, and Erik came out, a new pair of jeans hanging low on his hips.

“All clean?” he asked, wondering why Erik wasn’t wearing a shirt though he was not objecting in the least.

“Sure,” Erik said. “What were you laughing about out here?”

Charles motioned to his head. “Just imaging some things.”

Erik nodded slowly, eyebrows raising.

Charles put up his hands. “No, no, not those types of things. I mean, only some of those things. Mostly just funny things. Things I was going to say to Scott.”

Erik frowned. “I thought you broke up.”

“Yes, we did.”

Erik’s frown loosened, and he took a step toward Charles. “Professor--”

Charles tried valiantly not to stare at Erik’s bare chest. “Charles, really, call me Charles. You just rubbed yourself all over me. I think we’re on a first name basis now.”

Charles was expecting a laugh, or at least a quirking of Erik’s lips, but there was no reaction. Erik took another step closer, and Charles could feel his body heat and smell him now, that mountain spring soap again. His eyes darted away from Erik, looking everywhere but at him.

Erik sighed. “I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea.”

“What?” Charles asked, looking at Erik’s bicep.

“I just didn’t know how else to make you look.”

Charles was confused enough to bravely meet Erik’s eyes. “Look at what?”

Erik rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s nothing, Professor.”

“Charles, I told you to call me Charles.”

“Charles,” Erik said, and something in the tone made Charles’ pulse speed up.

He searched in vain for something to say, to get them out of this strangely thick atmosphere. “Thank you so much for tonight. The ladies had a great time.”

Erik gave him that crooked smile, and Charles’ tension eased at the sight. “What about you?”

“Me? I don’t really like things like this with so many people. It kind of tires me out...” he trailed off as he saw the smile fall from Erik’s face. “Oh, no, I mean, you were great. I liked your g-string. I mean -- your dance. You have a very large dick. Not that I was looking.” He shook his head. “Who am I kidding? Of course I was looking because it’s really big and it’s hard not to look, and don’t you think it’s a bit weird that you’re my ex-boyfriend’s TA and I was staring at your cock? I think it’s definitely we--”

The words stopped. It took Charles a moment to realize why because there was no way Erik was actually kissing him.

But he was, and his lips were warm and demanding, and Charles stopped thinking, opening for Erik instead. Erik let out a needy noise, and his hands sank into Charles’ hair, pulling gently, tipping Charles’ head back so Erik could deepen the kiss and bring his body flush against Charles’. Charles’ hands were back on Erik’s hips, just as they had been when Erik was grinding on his lap, and he held on tightly, his knees weakening from the onslaught. Charles had never been kissed like this, like Erik wanted to take him apart piece by piece and devour him.

Something was buzzing against his stomach, tickling him enough for him to let out a puff of air against Erik’s lips, but Erik ignored it completely, and Charles soon forgot about it, losing himself again to the sensation of Erik’s tongue against his.

He didn’t realize they’d moved across the room until he was falling back on his bed, and Erik followed him down, pinning Charles with his weight, his hands wandering up Charles’ shirt as his mouth wandered down Charles’ neck. Charles arched to give Erik better access, his breath catching as Erik’s teeth scraped across sensitive flesh before his tongue soothed it. He ran his hands down Erik’s back, desperate to touch all those muscles he’d watched downstairs, and then Erik’s mouth was back on his, kissing him desperately, moaning as he rutted against Charles frantically. Charles managed to spread his legs wider so that their clothed cocks came into contact, and they both broke away from the kiss to groan, Erik grinding down hard, and Charles snapping his hips up to meet every thrust.

One of Erik’s hands found its way into Charles’ hair, yanking hard as he whispered Charles’ name against his lips, but they were moving too fast and jerkily now to kiss properly, and Erik dropped his head and buried it in the crook of Charles’ neck, his hot breath damp against Charles’ skin. Charles had been hard constantly since Erik had touched him during his dance, and now he was on fire, so sensitive and turned on that even clothed rubbing was pushing him toward the edge. He would have been embarrassed if he could even think, but that mix of soap and sweat was filling the air again, and Charles grabbed Erik’s ass, pushing Erik even tighter against him as he lost it completely, crying out as he shook apart underneath Erik, stars filling his vision.

“Charles,” Erik panted against his neck, and then he was shuddering as well, only a low moan escaping his lips as his hips stuttered, the pressure from his thrusts a mixture of pleasure and pain on Charles’ overstimulated cock.

They lay still, panting into the silence, the din of ladies laughing floating up from the living room downstairs.

Erik pulled his head up from the crook of Charles’ neck, blinking down at Charles with his gorgeous green eyes darkened by arousal. “Charles, I--”

A loud honk startled them both.

“What--” Charles started, but the honk sounded again.

“Lehnsherr! Get your scrawny ass out here!” called a man’s booming voice.

“Shit,” Erik said, pushing himself up so his weight was off of Charles, and grabbing at the phone in his pocket. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Lehnsherr! I switched jobs as a favor but I am not going across town and letting those old birds tickle my balls unless you come with me! They booked us both!”

“He’s yelling in the street.” Charles said dumbly. “He’s yelling… for you?”

Erik had the phone up to his ear now, and the voice from outside answered, annoyingly loud even through the receiver. “Heya, bub, I only called about 10 times. I told you I would come by at 9:30, and you said you’d be ready. Get out here now.”

“Shit,” Erik said, climbing off of Charles with unsteady legs.

“Shit is right. I was a saint for switching jobs with you in the first place, but you do like to take all the ones booked by men. Did you nail him?”

Erik turned wide eyes on Charles. “No.”

“Nail me?” Charles asked.

“Logan, I’ll be out in a second. Hold on.”

“Five minutes, kid, or I’m coming to the door.”

Charles lay frozen on the bed, wetness cooling uncomfortably in his pants.

“Charles, I can explain,” Erik said, face pale and eyes wild.

“He said you needed to go,” Charles said because nothing else was making sense.

“Shit. I do. Shit. But listen, Charles, it’s not what you think.”

“I take it Wolverine was not sick?”

“No, but--”

A honk sounded from outside.

“Shit,” Erik grabbed a shirt from the duffel and pulled it on over his head.

“Charles!” Raven called from downstairs. “There’s a crazy mountain man yelling outside!”

“Charles--” Erik said.

Another honk from outside.

“Charles!” Raven called again.

Charles got up from the bed, pushed past Erik, and locked himself in the bathroom, leaning back against the door, chest heaving.

Erik pounded on the door. “Charles, wait, listen to me.”

“You need to go, Erik.”

“Lehnsherr!”

“Fuck,” Erik said. “Charles, I need to go right now, but I am going to explain this all to you as soon as I can and make everything right.”

Charles didn’t answer. He heard Erik let out a defeated sigh, and then the sound of footsteps on the hardwood as Erik walked out of his room and down the stairs. Raven’s and Moira’s voices mixed with Erik’s for a second, but he couldn’t make out the words, and then the front door was shutting, and finally he could breathe again.

His mind was whirring, trying desperately to reboot, but it remained nothing but a buzz of blank static. At last his limbs decided to move, albeit somewhat mechanically, and he wandered into the shower, still in a daze as he toweled off and pulled on clean clothes afterward.

He walked downstairs, and the ladies were still sitting around, obviously deeper into their drinks.

Raven spotted him standing there in different clothes with wet hair, and her jaw dropped.

“Charles, did you _actually_ fuck the stripper?”

***

Charles woke up on Sunday morning nauseous enough that even water seemed like a bad idea. He gingerly rolled over and blinked into the sunlight, annoyed at himself for drinking so much, but then he remembered why he drank so much, and he decided it had been entirely justified.

He curled more tightly into himself, trying to ease the ache in his stomach. His cellphone rang, shrill enough to send his head pounding, and he fumbled for it, pulling it from the bedside table and answering.

“Are you awake?” Raven asked.

“Now I am.”

“Are you okay? You were pretty much passed out when we left last night.”

“I’m hungover.”

“Obviously. Are you okay? Did the stripper try to touch you?”

He sighed. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Look, Charles, you just broke up -- a nice rebound fuck is just what most guys need.”

“I’m not rebounding.”

“Charles, come on, talk to me.”

“I just need some time to think.”

“You always do this. Please don’t overthink and make everything worse, okay? Promise me that.”

“I promise. Talk to you later.”

He flopped back onto his pillow, ready to get the thinking started but his mind was mysteriously blank. He couldn’t remember the last time it had been so utterly devoid of his loud and clamoring thoughts, and he was more disquieted than comforted by it.

After showering and drinking a whole carton of orange juice, he felt somewhat more alive, and decided to head to his favorite thinking spot. The weather was pleasantly warm and sunny as he strolled down to the nearby park, finding his favorite bench and sitting on the left side as he always did, watching the ducks swim around the man-made lake. They started toward him, but soon lost interest as soon as they realized he didn’t have any food.

Time to start thinking, he told his mind, but his thoughts were slow moving, dragging like molasses.

Erik was his ex-boyfriend’s TA. Erik was a stripper. Erik was a liar.

Erik was hot.

He shook his head, and tried to restart.

What had Erik been trying to prove? That Charles was easy? Had Scott sent him as some kind of twisted revenge? But no, Scott would never do something like that, so had Erik done this on his own? Decided to get back at Charles on Scott’s behalf? But Scott had dumped Charles. None of it made any sense.

Charles let out a long breath and slumped further down on the bench.

He stayed there on the bench, letting his mind wander, coming up with every last scenario he could think of until he came to the only logical conclusion.

Erik was an evil gay stripper who went around seducing unsuspecting innocent college professors, videotaping their encounters, and selling them to porn sites for money. Charles was probably already up on the internet, getting comments like “niiiiice” and “hawt” from dirty perverts who didn’t know how to capitalize or spell.

The sun was going down when he finally snapped out of his thoughts, and he dragged his heavy body from the bench, turning toward home. He’d thought he’d hit his low point last week. Didn’t movies and books dictate that life was supposed to have been uphill from there? Why was he careening downhill instead?

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, seeing Moira’s text.

_Are you ok?_

_I’m a pornstar_ , he typed back.

The phone immediately lit up with a call, but he didn’t feel like talking. He just wanted to go home and sleep. He had work tomorrow, and he was looking forward to it. Sweet, dependable routine.

***

Monday’s classes passed peacefully and according to routine. Charles wasn’t expecting it to happen any other way, but there was a dark cloud hanging over his head that even the soothing regularity of his day couldn’t dispel.

His body traveled to Beans without input from his mind, pre-programmed to order his skim milk latte. He approached his usual table, and battled momentarily with himself before deciding that he’d had a bit of a shake-up in his life and he wasn’t a failure for giving into his urge to sit where he felt most comfortable.

“Charles, hey.”

He glanced up to find Scott standing there, looking at him with a small frown. “Are you alright?”

Charles couldn’t help the triumphant grin the sight of Scott summoned. “I’ve made this a routine for you too, I see.”

Scott chuckled, taking his seat across from Charles and pulling off his douchey red sunglasses and setting them on the table. “You’ve converted me, but don’t get cocky.”

“I would never.”

They sipped their drinks in comfortable silence for awhile.

Scott leaned his elbow on the table. “You are okay, right? You looked pretty sad when I spotted you.”

Charles waved him off. “I had a crazy weekend. You wouldn’t believe it.”

“Charles Xavier having a ‘crazy weekend’?” Scott didn’t make air quotes, but Charles could tell he wanted to. “I don’t buy it. What did you do? Venture to an out-of-town used book store?”

A spark of annoyance ignited in Charles. “I partied with the girls, drank a lot, got a lap dance, and then had sex with a stripper.”

Scott’s jaw dropped.

“How was your weekend?”

“Uh,” Scott started, and then looked utterly relieved when he spotted something over Charles’ shoulder. “Erik!”

Charles’ grip on his cup tightened.

Erik approached their table, eyeing Charles and Scott with deep suspicion.

“Did you need something?” Scott asked.

“Not from you, no.”

“From Charles?”

“Yeah, could we have a moment?”

Scott’s eyebrows were reaching for his hairline. “Uh, sure. I’ll just be on my way then.”

The cup dented in Charles’ hand. “No, Scott, I think you should stay. I have nothing to say to Erik.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed. “I went by your house yesterday, but you didn’t answer the door.”

“I was out thinking.”

“Yeah,” Scott said. “I should really go.”

“Charles, will you please let me explain?”

How dare this nefarious stripper come in here and demand that Charles listen? Who did he think he was?

Charles stood, straightening to his full height though it still only brought his eyes to Erik’s chin, and put on his best “don’t mess with me” glare. “How many hits?”

“What?” Erik asked.

“On our porn video! How many?”

“What?” Scott asked.

Erik put up his hands in placating gesture, and then spoke very slowly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know what kind of weird scenario you’ve cooked up in your head, but--”

“No!” Charles spat. “You don’t get to come in here and talk down to me! Don’t think I’ll be fooled by you just because you look great naked and have a huge cock!”

“Yes, that’s my cue to exit,” Scott said, grabbing his sunglasses and booking it to the door. Charles didn’t take his eyes from Erik’s face, anger making him bold and fearless.

“You stay away from me! You can take your colossal cock and shove it up your ass! Or someone else’s! Not mine!”

Erik stared at him slack-jawed.

The entire cafe had gone silent, and as his righteous rage subsided, Charles noticed that everyone was staring, including the barista, who was standing frozen behind the counter, unartistically letting chocolate syrup ooze out onto a rapidly melting whipped cream topping.

Whispers erupted everywhere.

“Oh my god, porn?”

“How big do you think his cock is?”

“Isn’t that Professor Xavier?”

“Shove it in his own ass?”

Charles’ face heated. This was all Erik’s fault.

“I’m walking away now,” he told Erik.

Erik just nodded, looking like Charles had kicked him in the balls, which was really unfair because Charles would have loved to kick him in the balls, but he hadn’t and that face was making his chest hurt.

He brushed past Erik, who stood stone still, and rushed from Beans out into the cool night air. He took a deep breath, grasping for calm, and then turned on his heel to walk resolutely… somewhere. He had no idea where, but he wanted to get away from Erik, though there was also a small voice in the back of his mind screaming that he really wanted to be near Erik. It was all very confusing.

“Hey!” Scott jogged up to him, wearing his sunglasses even though it was sunset. “I figured you’d run out in another minute or two. You’re nothing if not predictable.”

“Piss off, Scott,” Charles spat, and continued walking...somewhere, but Scott followed, easily keeping up with Charles’ shorter strides.

“What happened back there?” Scott asked.

“Your TA is a scheming incubus,” Charles said.

“Did you do something to Erik?”

Charles stopped dead. “Did _I_ do something to _him_? Are you kidding me?”

Scott turned to face him fully. “Look, this really isn’t any of my business,” he started, which was rich, because Scott always thought everything about everyone was his business, “but I think you should go back to the cafe and talk to Erik.”

“Why?”

“He’s a good guy, and his heart is in the right place. He’s a bit intense and definitely impulsive, but I think he’d be good for you.”

Charles just stared at Scott. “Good for me for what?”

Scott looked heavenward for a moment. “You are seriously the most clueless human being I have ever met. Look, Erik has been watching you for months. Every time you’re in the room, he stares at you like a starving cougar that’s spotted a gazelle.”

“Cougars don’t eat gazelle, I think you mean a lion--”

“Charles, focus. I’m saying Erik has been pining after you for months.”

Charles’ brain stuttered to a halt. That didn’t make sense. Guys who looked like Erik didn’t pine after guys like Charles.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Scott muttered as Charles continued to reel. He put his hands on Charles’ shoulders and squeezed, voice firm as he repeated himself. “I think you should probably go back to the cafe and talk to him.”

“I just accused him of making porn with me,” Charles said because it was the only thing that came to his mind.

Scott’s lips quirked. “I’m not even going to ask about that. I don’t even want to know.” He pulled Charles in for a loose hug, and Charles relaxed into it. “Good luck, you weirdo. I think you two suit each other.”

Charles nodded into Scott’s shoulder, gathering his strength.

Scott tensed suddenly and Charles was momentarily offended because Scott had initiated this hug and there were no take-backs in hugging. But then he heard Scott whisper, “Fuck.”

Charles knew why. He didn’t need to even turn around to confirm it. Because his life had become a bad movie, and he seemed to be finding a new low point everyday. “Erik’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Scott said, releasing Charles and stepping back. “You two should just--” He gestured vaguely with his hand. “--talk this out. I’m seriously going now.” He clapped Charles rather hard on the back, and then walked briskly away.

Charles took a long, deep steadying breath before he turned around to find Erik standing there, looking like someone had kicked him in the balls a second time. It was completely unfair.

“You and Scott, huh?”

“No,” Charles said with determination because his life was a movie now, but he wasn’t going to let it be one of those cliche chick flicks. “Scott and I are very much broken up.”

Erik’s lips were still incredibly thin, but some of the tension left his shoulders. “If I explain some things, will you listen to me?”

“Yes,” Charles said because he wanted his life to make sense again. “But maybe not in Beans because I think everyone there probably assumes I do porn now.”

Erik obviously wanted to ask about that, but he restrained himself.

“My office?” Charles offered. It was close, and Charles needed the safe familiarity.

Erik nodded, and they walked the short trip side by side in silence.

Charles turned on the lights and pushed a few books to the floor so there was space for them to sit on the couch. Erik pulled one leg up onto the cushion so he could turn toward Charles, but Charles didn’t know where to look, so he settled his gaze on The Principle of Genetics on a nearby shelf.

“Okay.” Erik sounded he was steeling himself for combat instead of a conversation. “What did Scott say to you?”

“That I’m a gazelle.”

Erik contemplated that for a moment.

“Never mind. I guess I’ll just explain then,” he said finally. He took a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry, Charles. I did lie to you. I saw your name on the schedule, and I asked Logan to switch with me.”

“Because you like nailing guys who reserve strippers?”

“No,” Erik denied loudly enough to startle them both. He took another deep breath, and then more quietly said, “No. I switch with some of the guys sometimes because I don’t mind dancing for men, but I wanted to go because it was you. I’ve been…”

The lull lasted long enough that Charles finally looked away from the shelf to find Erik’s usually stern expression cracking.

“The first time I saw you, you were sitting in Beans with Scott, smiling at something he said. You were just... you were beautiful. I found out later you were his boyfriend, and that should have been the end of it. I mean, it was the end of it. I might be an impulsive asshole, but I’m not going to break up a happy couple.” His lips pursed. “Even if I thought about it sometimes.”

“Happy couple…” Charles murmured. They’d looked like a happy couple? News to him, but hey, apparently he was also beautiful. This conversation was even more surreal than he’d thought it would be.

“I told myself to let it go, but I couldn’t stop myself from watching you. You get this cute look on your face when you’re thinking, did you know that? You wrinkle your nose and there’s this little line between your brows...” Erik flushed. Apparently, this was far more embarrassing than getting naked in front of strangers. “I guess I just couldn’t help myself. I wanted you.”

Now it was Charles’ turn to blush. “But I’m…” he scrolled through the extensive dictionary in his brain, but still came up empty. “But I’m _me_.”

Erik’s small smile was fond. “Yeah, you’re pretty weird. Scott complained about it, but I love that you’re like that, the way you think everything through.”

“That annoys everyone,” Charles objected. “I even annoy myself sometimes.”

“Nothing about you annoys me, Charles.” He paused. “Though it would be nice if you’d stop hugging Scott. Or talking to him. Or going near him, really.”

Charles opened his mouth, but Erik silenced him with a look that was equal parts pleading and intimidating. “Can we pretend I didn’t just say that?” Charles nodded. “Good, so I kept telling myself to forget about you, but then last Monday, Scott wasn’t there for your coffee hour, and I thought… maybe… maybe you guys had split up. I was going to be patient and figure out some way to approach you, but patience isn’t really my strong suit.” For the first time since they’d sat down, Erik avoided Charles’ eyes. “Then I saw your name on the Rent-A-Hunk schedule, and I saw my chance to...”

“To get naked in front of me?” Charles finished for him.

Erik rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll admit it sounds rather absurd now. I didn’t think it through very well. After all those months of being invisible, I just wanted you to see me.”

The heat from Charles’ face spread to his neck. “I definitely saw.”

Erik let out a tight laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. Then the girls said that you and Scott really did break up, and I was going to ask you out on a date or something. That was the plan. But… we were alone in your room and I kind of lost it.” Erik was studying the cushion between them intently. “I’m sorry I jumped you.”

Charles swallowed thickly. “I didn’t mind being jumped. I rather enjoyed it, though I’m sure you could guess that by the fact that I came in my pants like a randy teen.” Was this the appropriate conversation for them to be having at this point? They wanted to talk, not have a repeat on this couch, right? He cleared his throat. “Erik, listen--”

“Can I just say one more thing?” he interrupted, jaw squared as his eyes met Charles' again.

Charles relented, his pulse racing. “Yes, okay.”

His green eyes softened and the tight line of his mouth loosened. “I like you, Charles. I want to get to know you.”

Charles’ ever-present clamoring thoughts finally met their match in the painful pounding of his heart which was obviously trying to stage an escape from his chest. He wondered if this crazy but perfect ache was what he’d been missing, the kind of thing people wrote songs about.

He remembered when he was young and his mother had forced him into swimming lessons, and he’d been ordered to climb to the highest diving board. He stood on the edge, looking down at the water so far, far below, paralyzed by the thoughts of all the things that could wrong. “Jump!” the instructor had yelled, and Charles had panicked, and climbed back down, shaking uncontrollably even once his legs were back on steady ground. He’d been boring even back then, and the other kids had laughed.

Erik would have cannonballed in, splashing water everywhere and probably pissing off the instructor. Sure, Erik was bizarre and maybe a bit of a stalker, but Erik was passionate and spontaneous and everything Charles wanted to be.

And he thought, maybe, if it was with Erik, he wanted to jump.

He tentatively reached out to Erik who was patiently watching him think. Erik took the offered hand with no hesitation, warm fingers curling around Charles’ in a snug grip, his eyes full of hope.

“Alright,” Charles said. “Let’s jump.”

Erik’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Right, that had made more sense in his head. Charles needed to say these things out loud. Erik had somehow managed to talk about his feelings, so surely Charles could do the same, even if it would be a bit of challenge. It was the emotionally-constipated leading the emotionally-constipated, but Erik liked him, and damn it, Charles could admit he just might like Erik too.

“I meant, let’s get to know each other. I’d like that.”

Erik’s crooked toothy smile finally made its appearance and Charles was relieved to know that for once he’d said the right thing. “Perfect,” Erik said, tugging Charles closer so he could put his arm around Charles’ shoulders. Feeling brave, Charles pressed a quick kiss to Erik’s lips that made Erik’s smile stretch to scary proportions, and Charles smiled reflexively in turn.

He settled in, slipping his arm around Erik's waist, and suddenly his expression brightened further as he realized he would no longer have to attend Raven's wedding alone. “Hey, Erik,” he said, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “How about a date where you get to keep your clothes on?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [cachinnation](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cachinnation/pseuds/cachinnation) for being an awesome friend and beta.
> 
> I'm [here](http://endingthemes.tumblr.com/) cheriking on tumblr!


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